


Routine

by Wayward_and_Worn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sam Winchester Gives Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 08:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17505281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_and_Worn/pseuds/Wayward_and_Worn
Summary: There are certain grooming criteria that must be met when you're involved with both of the handsome Winchesters.





	1. Chapter 1

                She crossed her arms and leaned in the doorway of Dean’s bathroom.  Dressed only in jeans and focused on his razor, he didn’t see her right away. 

                Repeated angel healings left a back that should be endlessly scarred, perfect and absolutely worth watching as his shoulder muscles rolled with his ministrations. 

                He finally noticed her in his peripheral and grinned, “See anything you like?”

                “I do love watching a man shave.” She smiled at his reflection. 

                “Oh you do huh?” he swished his razor in the sink, “Why is that?”

                Pushing off the doorframe and uncrossed her arms, “I don’t know, really.  You got your Busty Asian Beauties, I’ve got this.  It’s just, manly.”  She paused, biting her lower lip, “Intimate.  And, hot.”

                He half turned, eyebrow arched.  “Well don’t be shy then,” he motioned to the closed toilet next to the sink.  “Front row viewing if you want.”

                She entered, placing her hand at the small of his back as she maneuvered around him in the small motel bathroom.  A small sigh escaped her as she sat down and he resumed shaving. 

                They sat silently for a few moments, “I never had an audience before.”  He admitted with a slight chuckle.

                “If you’re uncomfortable, I can go.  I’d hate for you to accidentally cut yourself and bleed to death because of me.”

                “That would be the way.”  He began, glancing sideways at her as he dragged the razor up the side of his face.  “I want to go out in a blaze of glory and in the end, because of a pretty girl and a hard-on, I die of a freak shaving accident.”

                “We certainly can’t have that.”  She said, standing up and moving to stand next to him.  She placed her hands on his waist, turning him to face her.  His had had frozen mid-way up to his chin.  She smiled again and gently took the razor from his hand.  Placing her thumb under his chin, she pushed his head back with gentle pressure.  He obliged.  Carefully, she pulled the razor from his neck to the curve of his strong jaw.  She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.  She was almost overwhelmed by the desire to press her lips to his neck.  As the thought passed her mind, she felt Dean’s hands resting on her waist.  She continued.

                She finished under his chin and instructed him to face the mirror.  She could feel him studying her as she finished the right side of his face.  Dropping the razor, she grabbed the towel and brought it up to his face to wipe away any leftover cream.  “Done!”  She proclaimed.

                “Not yet, sweetheart.”  He grinned, releasing her hips and then handed her the aftershave. 

                With a chuckle, she applied the fragrant gel to her hands and smoothed it over his freshly shaved skin, she realized that she was probably very flushed.  She was suddenly aware of her own breathing, the ragged breaths probably betraying the hell out of her.  How did that happen?  She wondered.  “There.”  She ran her fingers along his jaw.  “Perfect.”  She moved to head to the door and go jump in a cold lake.

                Dean grasped her hips once more, she looked up into his green eyes, noting the widened pupils.  “You’re right.  This IS hot.”

…

                Back in his bathroom doorway, on another day, in another motel, in another city, Y/N watched Dean shave.  It had been a routine for weeks now.  When Dean shaved, which wasn’t always daily, she was his audience.  This time, when she approached, she noticed Dean was only wearing a towel.  Attempting not to hyper focus on that, she moved to sit in her spot to watch; poking him in the side as she passed.  “Nice outfit.”  She joked.

                “Careful,” he purred.  “No blood today please.”

                “That’s not fair, you sneezed!”  She huffed.       

                With the smile of the devil and a wink, he resumed shaving.  Her blood bubbled as she watched, noticing the little things she’d picked up along the way.  Like how he’d hold his breath when the blade was close to his throat.  Finally, he bent down, rinsed his face and stood back up.  After examining the results in the mirror he turned to face her.   He’d begun calling her the “Quality Control Department.”  As he turned, the towel began to fall from his hips, only to be caught on the erection that she had somehow missed.  With a flourish, he grabbed the towel and wrapped it back around him.  A blush had crept up into his cheeks. 

                She stood up, and placed her hand on his side, just above the towel.  She caressed the warm, smooth skin she found there.  “It’s ok Dean.  I’m told it’s a common morning thing for men.” 

                “No,” he replied with a sharp intake of breath as she ran her fingers across his stomach.  “That’s for you.”  Followed by, “It’s always been for you,” under his breath.  She looked up, immediately caught in the green fire in his beautiful eyes.    

                “Well then, “ she heard herself replying with a confidence she wasn’t used to, and ran her hand up his stomach, to his shoulder, to his freshly shaved face.  She placed her other hand to the back of his neck and pressed her body against him.    “I want it.”  She whispered against his lips. 

                Instantly, his arms were around her, towel forgotten, and his mouth capturing hers in a kiss.  Pausing for breath, he whispered, “You do?”

                She kicked the towel away and stepped back so she could let her hand ghost across the velvety shaft that was fully erect.  A quiet moan escaped him and she pressed a little harder.  She then wrapped her fingers around him and stroked once.  “Yes.  I do.”

                His hips bucked and his head fell back, gasping as he grabbed the vanity.  “It’s yours.  I’m yours.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quality Control is very important.

                 She came down the hallway, hair still wet and in her bathrobe.  She saw Sam buried in a book in the library.  Approaching on bare feet, he didn’t hear her until she was almost next to him.  He spun suddenly, startling them both.  “Dude!” he gasped.

                “Dude yourself!”  She squawked.  “What did you think was coming?!”

                “I don’t,” he paused, taking in her state of undress and hair, “What are you doing?”

                “Where’s Dean?”  She looked towards the kitchen, expecting to hear him. 

                “Beer run and groceries.”  He turned his chair to face her.  “What do you need?”

                She turned back to Sam, studying him for a moment.  “You’ll just have to do it.”  She cast the bottom part of her robe aside and placed her foot on the chair between his legs.  “I just shaved and I need you to tell me if I’m sufficiently smooth,” she declared.

                Sam looked up at her in disbelief.  “What?”  He glanced at her exposed flesh and then back up at her. 

“I need to you tell me if I missed anything.”  She deadpanned. 

He snorted, “Seriously?  Dean does this for you?”

                She leaned forward a little, “He _loves_ doing this for me.  If you don’t want to, I guess I will just wait for him to come back.”  Before she could remove her foot, he clasped his large hand around her ankle. 

                “No, no, I’ll do it.”  He cleared his throat.  “Uh, more than happy to do it.”  He placed both hands around her calf.  “What does Dean do?  I don’t want to do it wrong.”

                She ran the tips of her fingers down his cheek, “He runs his hands up and down.  Thoroughly.  He makes sure he covers the entire surface.  Like a quality check.  But I don’t think you’ll find I missed anything.  I’m sleek!”

                He nodded and looked hard at her leg, studying it like it was one of his tomes to translate.  With both hands encircling her calf, he slowly ran them up to her knee.  Once there, he shifted them so that one hand cupped underneath her thigh, the other surfing across the top.  As he slid closer to her body, he leaned his own body forward.  Being careful to touch nothing more than her leg, he slowed down greatly as his fingers almost brushed her core.  His attention to detail made her breath catch in her throat.  He paused, then placed his fingertips on the inside and outside of her thigh, gently dragging them back towards her knee, down her calf, to her ankle.  She shivered, it had been a long time since she and Sam had enjoyed each other.  And for the life of her she had no good reason why.

                Pausing, he looked up at her, his pupils a little wider, eyebrows raised in question, “Is this okay?”  His voice was a little strained and she suspected that if she pushed her foot forward, she’d be rewarded with feeling his erection.  She nodded.  He then flattened his hands against the outside and inside of her leg, caressing her all the way back up.  Her core beginning to dampen with desire for his touch.

                He sat back with a satisfied smile, “You’re perfect,” he breathed, “Next.”

                She brought her right leg down, cast open the robe a little more to let him know that she was truly bare beneath it, and placed her left foot on the chair.  But first, she softly brushed the outline of his stiff member with the ball of her foot.  “Oops.”  She lied, looking directly into his eyes. 

                She was met with hazel fire.  With determination on his face, he repeated his inspection of her other leg.  However, when he ran his fingertips up the inside of her thigh, he stopped, holding her just short of her core.  She tightened and tried to hold his eyes.  His fingertips dug a little tighter, dimpling her flesh, “Did you shave, everywhere?”  He asked huskily. 

                Dean never asked that.  To be honest, Dean rarely made it to the other leg.   She nodded, mouth dry, heart pounding, core begging to be touched. 

                “Should I check?”  He asked, eyes dropping to focus on the satin belt. 

                “Yes.”  She tried to sound seductive, but the word came out with a higher pitch and need dripping from it.

                He simply extended his fingers, brushing her folds.  Gasping, she almost lost her balance.  He gripped her hips as she brought her foot back to the ground.  “Oh, we can’t have that.”  He said, guiding her to the edge of the table.  Standing before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her to his hard frame as he leaned forward over her and swept the pile of books to the side.  Pushing gently, he sat her on the edge.  He turned to pull up his chair and seated himself between her knees.  Looking back up at her, “Ready?”  Without waiting for an answer, which was just as well since she couldn’t speak, he reached for the sash and pulled.  He reached his hands inside, grasping her sides and using his forearms to push the fabric away from her body, revealing her to his full gaze. 

                She watched him take her in.  Watched his breath speed up.  He traced her smooth opening with one finger.  She let her head fall back and placed her feet on the arms of his chair.  She was pondering grabbing his hair when he looked up at her again.  “This is an especially sensitive area.  Do you mind if I use an alternative method?”

                “You’re the professional, I trust you.”  She panted.  She let her body fall back on the table, opening more for Sam. 

                She heard a sigh, felt his hands grasp her thighs, and then shouted in relief as she felt his tongue slip between her folds.  She began moaning in pleasure as his tongue found and circled her swelling clit. 

                He was relentless and precise with his oral inspection.  She was coming before she knew it, arms reaching out for purchase on anything, and instead knocking books onto the floor.  She came calling his name and was left panting and boneless when he was through. 

                She heard the chair push back and suddenly he was standing over her, pressing his denim covered erection against her pulsing core.  His lips over hers, he told her how perfect she was and that he would gladly substitute for Dean’s inspections any time.  She sat up, pressing her lips to his, tasting herself there and reaching down to free his cock from his jeans when the bunker door slammed.

                They sighed in disappointment.  “To be continued.”  Sam growled as he pulled her off the table to her feet.  She’d just tied the sash when Dean approached.  He dropped a bag of fast food on the table along with a case of beer.  He glanced between them and understanding flashed in his eyes. 

                “Aw, is it shaving day?”  He whined. 

                Sam opened his mouth to answer but Y/N beat him to it.  “You weren’t here.  You know how time sensitive that is.”

                Dean nodded sullenly.  “I get an extra burger then.”

                “That’s fine.  I just ate.”  Sam replied.       


End file.
